


Beyond Repair

by irish_trash_cash



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fall of Overwatch, Fuck you MK, Fuck you and your beautiful character and his sad story, I cried in class while I wrote this one, Major Original Character(s), Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Overwatch - Freeform, So much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 19:49:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9400559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irish_trash_cash/pseuds/irish_trash_cash
Summary: Mike had a rose garden in his soul- he saw beauty in desperation, despite not seeing at all. He used to understand that he would always be alone. That’s just the way things were. He was born alone, he'll die alone, and he have to learn to live with it, and love it. But it turns out all it took to make him crack, was a push.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ay, who’s ready for some heart wrenching angst? I know I am! This fic is in the perspective of a friend’s OC, Mike (hanzosothertiddy on Tumblr). This was a fun challenge for me though, because where I’m used to writing as Callen, who’s deaf, this fic is written as Mike, who’s blind. It’s interesting to read because although I provide some visualization, there’s a lot of sounds that you’ll have to pick up, to get a feel for his character, so just imagine you’re blind and you’ll do just fine!

It was far from over; he was aware. His pain hadn’t eased, tears haven’t dried- there is no lingering hope. And he’s scared. Scared of the ever-present darkness surrounding him and the taste of blood and ash on his lips.

It had happened all too fast. From what Mike could tell, it was just another normal day in-base. But he had never been so wrong. Despite being blind, he could still see it,  _ feel _ it- the lingering tension among his fellow soldiers. And despite caring so much, he couldn’t help but blame himself for lying in his head- for not bringing the issue to attention and trying to do something about it. That was Mike’s biggest problem- he cared too much about other people and never stopped to worry about himself. Even as he lie there, unable to see, unable to breathe, he couldn’t help but wonder if his fellow teammates were alright.

It didn’t take long for Mike to snap out of it; wiggle around and cry out as his hands found something searing hot and pain shot through his legs. He was in a  _ lot _ of pain, the kind of pain where all he could do was lie there and feel his heart pounding in his chest and the burn of fire all around him. As the sound of steel creaking and breaking around him rang out, Mike felt like his last breath was on its way, and his whole body felt like a balloon as his toes and fingers started to numb out and he felt lighter than air. He was shaking and trembling and his tears wouldn’t cease. His whole being was screaming and growling- like his soul was pleading to finally be let free, because he knew no one would come to save him.

Mike pushed himself up onto his elbows, dragged himself a few feet forward, and collapsed on his back, burning hands searching in his pockets for the one thing he needed to call for help. It took a while, but eventually his numbed hands found it, fingers wrapping around the soothing, cool metal. Lifting it to his lips as he sucked in a breath, chest heaving as he took in a mouthful of ash and smoke with it. He didn’t hear the whistle- normal people can’t- but he knew that if either of them were still alive, they’d hear it for sure.

There was a few seconds of silence- save the creaking steel and raging fire- before he could hear her. Nearly silent, bounding steps,  _ hopefully _ running in his direction, he reached a hand up and blew another short burst of air into the whistle to alert her of his position.

“Jonesy, bloody christ, are ye’ awright? Wha’ happened?” She asked, the familiar lilt of her voice soothing his ears. Mike opened his mouth to reply, but his throat was parched and his lungs burned, so all he could do was let out a few dry coughs, covering his mouth and rolling onto his side. At that point, Callen’s instincts had already kicked in, and she looped her arms under his, dragging him across the ground a good distance before falling over herself, breathing heavily.

“Takoda...” Mike rasped, breathing almost as heavily as she, and Callen hummed in response, letting Mike out of her arms as she seemed to tear a piece of fabric from somewhere, probably her uniform, soon tying it around Mike’s face to cover his mouth, allowing him to breathe clearly.

“Ah’ll find ‘im mate, dinnae worry. We’ll get ye’ outta’ here.” She replied, and Mike felt her shift to sit at his side, taking the whistle from him and placing something in his hands in its place. “Ah can’t hear tha’ damn thing without these, so ye’ jus’ hold aun tae those while Ah call for ‘im.” She explained, and Mike nodded, fingers tightening around her hearing augments as a calming silence drifted over them, almost lulling him to sleep.

Mike wasn’t sure how long he was out for, but the first thing he felt when he woke up was something like sandpaper, wet and slimy as it ran across his cheeks and nose. An almost worried whine following it.  _ ‘Takoda.’ _ Mike tried his best to sit up, reaching out and grabbing in the direction of the dog, rubbing his hands along his fur and struggling to laugh as he pulled its monstrous head close in a tight hug.

“Found tha’ beast wanderin’ around, helpin’ tae guide survivors out.” Callen’s voice rang out, and as confusing as this whole situation was, Mike was glad to know there were survivors that were able to make it out of- whatever this situation was- alive. Callen expressed that they should probably find their way out before the roof collapsed on them, and Mike silently agreed, wrapping his arms around Takoda’s neck and, with Callen’s help, finally gathered the strength to stand upright.   


Callen led the way, velocity-challenging equipment whirring quietly as she walked ahead. Mike slowly followed, holding on to Takoda’s collar as he walked. It took a while for his cybernetics to start functioning normally, but he eventually got the hang of it. His carbon sensors seemed to have been damaged badly though, so Mike continued to hold on to Takoda as he walked.

It wasn’t long before something happened. A few minutes after they started searching for an exit, Callen and Takoda froze up, Mike stopping with them. Despite not being able to see, Mike knew something was up, and went down into a crouching position as Takoda hunched down. Mike and Takoda stayed put as Callen moved, rolling across the floor and charging the laser in her gauntlets, the capacitors letting out an electronic whine as they did. 

Mike felt Takoda shift his head to the right, sniffling loudly and shaking his owner’s hand off his collar. Mike knelt silently, listening to Takoda sniff across the ground, stopping across the room and letting out a low growl.

“Oi, Tak, what es et, love?” Callen called out, and Takoda let out a warning bark that Mike knew was not a good sign. 

“Callen,” Mike said dryly, throat still parched, but the soldier didn’t respond. He heard her walk over to Takoda, say some sweet words to the dog, then whisper an almost silent ‘oh christ’ as Takoda barked again, pawing at the ground.

“Shite, we ‘ave tae go. Now.” Callen huffed, and Takoda was soon back at Mike’s side, allowing him enough time to grab back onto his collar before the dog sprinted off after Callen. Mike’s cybernetics were still stiff, and he stumbled over his feet as they ran through the ruined base. A loud  _ crack _ , and Mike was launched forward- or rather, pulled by something. Takoda let out a pained yelp as he was thrown into the nearby wall, Mike falling to the floor next to him, and he sputtered out a cough as an electric buzz pulsated through his body, rendering his cybernetics useless and burning the nerves in his legs.

Then, for a split second, he could see- not normally, no, but whatever that explosion did, it must have overcharged his carbon locators. He looked around frantically, backing up a bit and putting a protective arm around Takoda. His vision was as usual when his gear was equipped- all black, with the occasional pulse of white, highlighting any objects before him like sonar. It was then that he took in the sight of Callen standing before him, propping up the collapsed ceiling, face contorted in pain, and gauntlets glowing as they struggled to absorb the weight of the metal and concrete ready to crush her.

In that moment, Mike remembered how he’d always ask Callen why she didn’t read about happy things- why all the books she’d lent to him focused on pain and broken promises. He’d always wondered why most of Overwatch’s soldiers talked more about the moments when they were broken down than when they were basking in glory. He’d asked himself over and over and over again, where does the good go?

In that moment, Mike realized the good goes nowhere but into their own being. Callen focused on the negative because very good memory, kind gesture, sweet word, happy day- it made her stronger, more concrete in her sense of direction and existence. It internalizes, and who she is, is because of all the good and the wonderful, as much as it is because of the harsh lessons the hard parts of her past taught her. There’s no glory without pain.

“Get aut’a here, Jonesy! Take Takoda and  _ go _ .” Callen ordered. She let out a grunt in frustration as one of her knees buckled, and she moved her other leg out, locking her joints so she wouldn’t slip. Mike remained silent, only able to look onward and stare at Callen as Takoda grabbed the back of Mike’s shirt in his mouth, pulling him backward. As the wave of electricity left the foundation, Mike’s vision went black again, and after stumbling backward a few feet, he finally turned away from Callen, facing forward and holding tightly to Takoda’s collar as he ran. His shoulder collided with doorways on more than one occasion, but he didn’t care. All Mike worried about was getting Takoda and himself out alive.

It was then that he realized he no longer had a hold on Takoda’s collar.

Stopping in his tracks, Mike turned around, fumbling with his pockets in search for his whistle, but it wasn’t there- he left it with Callen. Placing a hand on the wall, Mike slowly walked back where he came from, softly calling out for the dog as he went along. After blindly walking around, he eventually found him- nearly stumbled over the poor dog as he lay on the floor, panting heavily.

“It’s alright Takoda, come on.” Mike said, smoothing down the dog’s fur as he felt around for his head. “I need you to be my eyes. Can you do that for me, buddy?” he asked, and Takoda let out a whimper as Mike crouched beside him, struggling for a moment as he lifted the dog into his arms and slowly made his way through the base. It seemed like an eternity but eventually they made it out. Guided by a few shifts of Takoda’s paw, Mike was able to maneuver the halls, avoid any residual fire, and exit to the outside. Fresh air filled his lungs as he shuffled across the scorched ground, and it didn’t take long for the voices of surrounding survivors to fill his ears, and he fell to the ground in a heap.

“Vice Commander Irving... still inside…” Mike managed to choke out, and the surviving soldiers that approached him soon left, probably back inside to go find Callen. “We’re okay Takoda. It’s alright.” Mike said soothingly, taking deep breaths as the last of the remaining smoky air left his lungs. Takoda let out a whimper, shuddering under Mike’s touch, and that’s when he realized the warm wetness coating Takoda’s fur, and the sharp pricks of metal lodged in his side.

“No, no,  _ no _ .” Mike cried out, sitting upright and shouting for a medic. Hastily running his hands over Takoda’s fur, he felt around for how many entry wounds there were- one, five,  _ twelve _ … He was crying now as he tore off his jacket, pulling out as many pieces of shrapnel as he could and wrapping the cloth around the dog’s midsection.

“You’re alright bud, it’s gonna be alright.” He squeaked, voice shaky and cracking as he once again shouted for a medic, pulling Takoda close and pressing his ear to his side. Mike couldn’t see how much blood he’d lost or what the damage was, but he could still hear a heartbeat, pumping slowly, rhythmically, pounding in Mike’s ears almost as loud as his own heartbeat. He was too afraid to let go, but as he held Takoda close, and the dog’s heartbeat slowed, Mike felt like he was being pulled beneath the earth, suffocating- he was too vulnerable to the pain of letting Takoda go. And as Takoda’s heartbeat stopped completely, the pain ate at him even as the medical scribes finally arrived, pulling him away from the dog, now lying limp on the scorched earth. And as Mike knelt there, hugging Takoda’s lifeless body, clutching at his fur, patting his head, he realized that nothing anyone could say or do would make the pain go away.

Some things are just beyond repair.

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who read my work with Callen, Counting to Ten, this is not canon to how I wrote the fall of Overwatch, just so you know. I figured I might as well tell you all that. If you like this though, feel free to leave a Kudos! And if you have any pointers or anything to say about my writing, drop a comment and let me know! It's always appreciated and encouraged!


End file.
